The Depth of Beauty
by theshadowedmoon
Summary: A night out for Kurt and Ororo is ruined by an old prejudice. Will the hate Ororo holds inside tear her and Kurt apart? ::completed::
1. Chapter One

The restaurant was ritzy to say the least. But then again, so were all the others in this section of New York City. The clientele were the elite; the women work mink coats and the men sported hand-made Italian suits. The hum of conversation mixed with the notes of Beethoven's "Fur Elise" that was being played on the grand piano. Silverware clinked against expensive fine china, adding to the cacophony. 

From this scene, one particular couple seemed to stand out. Perhaps it was the lady, with her rich cocoa skin and snow-white hair. Or her male companion, with his strange, cat-like movements. Whatever it was, there was an undeniable strange "otherness" about the pair.

This was because they weren't human.

Ororo Munroe delicately smoothed the fresh linen napkin across her lap. Across from her, Kurt Wagner drummed his two fingers against the table in a nervous fashion. His eyes darted from side to side as if he expected an angry mob to jump out at him at any moment. He had only possessed the image inducer, the device that hid his blue skin and brilliant yellow eyes, for a little over a week. He had yet to learn to relax in a crowd. 

The advent of the image inducer was the special occasion that the couple was celebrating this night. For his entire life, Kurt had been confined to the shadows. The sight of him tended to cause fear and mass panic in certain situations. Now, thanks to the concealment offered by the device, he was free to mingle with the general public, as long as he was careful not to knock anything over with his tail.

Ororo knew that that this dinner was going to cost Kurt most of his paycheck. She had refused at first, claiming that going out for pizza would be just as nice. But Kurt had insisted that this momentous occasion in his life called for something a little more special than pepperoni and extra cheese.

The waiter had already come and gone, leaving Ororo and Kurt alone in a comfortable silence. Neither one said a word for several moments. Ororo busied herself studying the dining couples closest to them. She often entertained herself by trying to pinpoint any other mutants in the crowd. She would look for any tell-tale signs, any movements that would betray them. So far this group seemed to be perfectly…_human_. Her concentration was broken by Kurt clearing his throat.

"Are you enjoying yourself, _fraulein_?" he asked, smiling weakly at her.

"Yes, I am," replied Ororo. "It was very sweet of you to invite me out tonight."

Kurt shrugged off the comment. He picked up his wine glass and twirled it, watching as the red wine swished inside. "You look very nice this evening," he stated, becoming bolder.

She glanced down at the midnight blue dress she was wearing. It was made of satin, with a sweeping, low-cut neckline. She had bought it especially for this night. Around her neck hung a deep yellow topaz pendant; she reached up and began to toy with the gold chain that held it. 

"Thank you, Kurt." Ororo studied her companion for a moment. He was wearing a black suit with a deep blue vest. "You look handsome yourself."

The German grinned, a faint blush staining his cheeks. "_Danke_," he murmured, glancing momentarily at her. He then held his glass out towards her. "A toast?" he suggested.

"To what?" she asked as she lifted her own glass.

"To tonight," he proposed.

"To us," added Ororo.

Kurt grinned. "To us," he repeated.

The glasses clinked melodiously as they toasted. Ororo took a tentative sip of the dry red wine, her eyes locked on Kurt. He nervously set down his glass and then reached his hand out across the table. She allowed him to take her free hand in his own.

"_Fraulein_…there is something I have been wanting to tell you…" he began, his eyes focused on the tablecloth.

"Yes?" asked Ororo eagerly, leaning forward with anticipation.

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but the waiter picked that inopportune moment to return with their food. Ororo frowned and pulled away from Kurt, sitting back so that the waiter could place her plate before her. For a moment, she hoped that her friend might continue with what he was about to say, but he appeared to be suddenly engrossed in his meal. The weather witch let out a deep sigh. 

The pair ate in silence, commenting from time to time on the meal. Ororo was beginning to grow uneasy. It wasn't her dinner companion, but the odd sense that she was being watched. She glanced around the restaurant, but everyone seemed preoccupied with their own conversations. 

She had to turn around in her seat to find who was watching her. She was quite surprised who the culprit was. An older woman, with gray, wispy hair that was pulled back into a tight bun, sat still with her eyes fixed on Ororo. Her lips were pinched into a frown and she seemed to be very displeased about something.

Immediately, Ororo assumed it was because she was a mutant. Her powder-white hair betrayed her peculiar DNA code. Ororo was accustomed to people staring at her, trying to decide whether or not her hair was bleached.

The weather witch turned back to her companion, trying to ignore the older woman's stares. No one else seemed too disturbed by the near proximity of a possible mutant. Maybe it was because Kurt appeared to be perfectly normal. Human-mutant relationships were almost completely unheard of. Prejudices seemed to run deep.

The elderly lady politely excused herself from the table and headed towards the restroom. Kurt and Ororo's table lay in her path. She refrained herself to icy glares as she walked by the first time. However, as she returned to her seat moments later, her eyes locked on Kurt and she gave him a reprimanding glare. Then her eyes flickered to Ororo. In a hushed whisper she uttered a single word as she sauntered onward. Ororo's stomach clenched and every muscle in her body tensed. A few patrons glanced up from their meals as a loud rumble of thunder shook the glass windows.

Across the table, Kurt sat very still as he cautiously studied Ororo. He had heard what the woman had muttered, but he was confused. He had never heard that particular English word before, but gauging from his friend's reaction, it wasn't pleasant or polite. He leaned forward and whispered softly. "Ororo. What does that mean?"

The weather witch took a deep, shaking breath, trying to steady herself. However, when she spoke, her voice betrayed her. "It's a word used for people like me," she answered softly.

"A mutant?" asked Kurt in a lower tone, his eyes moving towards where the woman was now seated, talking heatedly to her husband and gesturing emphatically towards them.

"No, Kurt," replied Ororo. "Someone with my color skin."

He turned back to her in surprise. "_Was_!" he exclaimed, slipping back into German. Those closest to the pair turned to stare at hem. Kurt half-rose, fully intending on marching over there and letting the woman know exactly what he thought of her. Ororo reached out and grasped his wrist.

"Kurt, please don't. You'll only make it worse," she pleaded softly, glancing apologetically towards their audience.

"Make it worse!" he bellowed, now drawing the attention of the host at the front of the restaurant. 

"I think you may be a part of the problem," murmured Ororo, as she glanced back towards the woman.

"Me?" asked Kurt uncertainly.

"Or maybe I should say 'us'," she amended, releasing his wrist.

Kurt paused for a moment, blinking as this information sunk in. "Is it because…"

"You're white," concluded Ororo, staring up at him with a wry smile. "And I'm not."

The tall man clenched his fists and spat something in German. Ororo couldn't understand what he had said, but she assumed that it had been particularly nasty and something he wouldn't normally say. She turned away from him, staring down at her half-eaten meal.

"I'm not very hungry anymore. Can we please go home?" she beseeched.

"_Nein_. That is what she wants," he replied, waving his hand in the offender's direction.

"Kurt," Ororo whispered desperately. "I honestly think I'll be sick if I try to eat."

He paused for a moment, staring down at her eyes which burned with anger, shame, and hurt. He wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and hold her until the world vanished. Instead, Kurt let out a heavy sigh and nodded somberly. 

"As you wish, fraulein."

The ride home was tense. Ororo refused to speak or to even look at Kurt. Her eyes remained locked on the winding road ahead. Her thoughts were a tangled mess; overhead clouds were beginning to build up and a light drizzle began. Kurt sensed that she needed the time to think, to sort things out, and remained quiet. 

By the time they arrived back at the mansion, Ororo had mastered her emotions. Stars were once again blinking down through the clearing cloud cover. Half way across the front lawn, Kurt hung back. Ororo stopped and turned to him. He was fidgeting nervously.   


"Is there something wrong?" she asked, her voice strained.

"About tonight…"

"Just forget it, Kurt," Ororo interrupted, sounding sharper than she had intended.

"_Nein_," he insisted, taking a step toward her. He reached out and carefully brushed a loose wisp of hair away from her face. She pulled away slightly. "I know you must be angry…"

"Angry?" she spat. "_Angry_? Come on, Kurt. You heard what she called me. All because she didn't like the color of my skin!" 

"I know," Kurt replied softly, ducking his head.

Ororo let out a disgusted noise. "I'm sick of it, Kurt. I'm sick of the stares I get in public. If it's not because I'm a mutant, it's something else. I'm sick of the whispers, the pointed fingers. I'm sick of the _hate_! Sometimes I wonder if Magneto isn't right, if this world wouldn't be better without them…"

"You do not mean that," he argued.

"No, Kurt. I do. I hate them." Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. Her stomach churned and for a moment Ororo thought she was going to be sick there in front of him. "I _hate_ them, Kurt. I hate all of them."

"_Nein, fraulein_. _Nein_," murmured Kurt comfortingly, reaching out and trying to pull her into his arms. Ororo resisted, pushing away. 

"You don't understand," she stated vehemently.

"What do I not understand?" he replied, a hint of anger in his voice.

"You just don't understand," repeated Ororo, withdrawing into herself. Nothing mattered to her but her own pain. She wanted to go somewhere alone to lick her wounds. She wanted to be left alone. 

"Do I not understand the jeers? The looks of fear and hatred?" spat Kurt, his eyes narrowing. He reached down and tore the image inducer off of his wrist. The hologram projection flickered and died. He gestured to himself. "Do you really think that I do not understand how it feels to be despised, _fraulein_? _Nein_. You are too wrapped up in your own self-pity to realize that you are not the only one who has suffered."

Ororo stared dumbfounded at the man in front of him. Kurt had never before raised his voice, had never lost his cool. And now he was glaring angrily at her, his lips twisted into a grim frown. The look on his face only made Ororo want to cry harder. 

"I…I'm sorry, Kurt," she muttered lamely. She looked away, too ashamed to look him in the eye. 

"Whatever," he replied moodily.

"I said I was sorry! What more do you want?" snapped Ororo.

"Nothing. Good night, _fraulein_." Kurt turned from her and teleported away.

"Fine," Ororo hissed at the dissipating cloud of blue-black smoke. "_Be that way_!" She turned and marched inside, slamming doors as she went. Suddenly, she could care less if she ever saw Kurt Wagner again. 

TBC…


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: I forgot to mention it in chapter one: I don't own these characters. 

Logan glanced up from the card game as the entire mansion shook from a deep roll of thunder. The lights flickered momentarily, threatening to leave him in inky black darkness. Across from him, Scott Summers raised a slender eyebrow. Even though Logan couldn't see the other man's eyes on account of the red quartz glasses, he was sure Scott's expression was every bit as puzzled as his own. Bobby Drake glanced back and forth between his two teachers. In the distance a door slammed.

"Do you think that's 'Ro?" commented Logan nonchalantly, seemingly undisturbed by the sudden severe weather outbreak.

"I thought she was going out with Mr. Wagner tonight," stated Bobby with a shrug, returning to studying his hand of cards.

"Do you think…." began Scott only to be interrupted by the sound of another door slamming followed by more thunder.

Logan calmly set his cards facedown on the table. It was a shame that he was going to have to fold; he had finally gotten a decent hand. "Bobby, go to bed."

The teenager knew better to argue with Wolverine. He tossed his cards down on the table and pushed his chair back. He muttered a "good night" and quickly made himself scarce. 

Scott and Logan stared at each other for a moment and then simultaneously turned their cards over. Wolverine cursed loudly while Cyclops let out a victorious whoop. Logan slouched down in his chair. Must he always lose to pretty boy, even at poker?

"So, what will it be?" asked Logan, sweeping up the cards. "Angry African goddess or moody teleporting elf?" 

Scott let out a short, bark-like laugh. "You really think those two got into it?" He was answered by another thunderclap. Scott shook his head. "I'll talk to Ororo. You can hunt down Kurt."

Logan nodded brusquely and then stood, twisting his neck from side to side. His metal plated spinal column cracked loudly in protest. He followed Scott out of the common room and then headed off in the opposite direction. 

He could feel the potential energy in the air as he stepped out into the humid night. The atmosphere was crackling with Storm's power, reflecting her grim mood. Logan tilted his chin slightly, breathing in deeply. He was flooded with thousands of different scents, but he was looking for just one. A breeze picked up, carrying with it the musty scent of the blue teleporter. 

Logan headed down a gravel pathway that wound its way through one of the many elaborate gardens that covered the mansion grounds. The scent of rain-drenched rose blooms assaulted his acute senses. Dew soaked his shirt sleeves as he brushed past the bushes. He stopped when he came across a shadowy figure bent in prayer. Logan waiting respectfully for Nightcrawler to finish before moving to the teleporter's side.

Kurt finished his prayer, but continued to stroke the rosary beads in a nervous fashion. He didn't turn towards his companion as Logan crouched down beside him. The pair sat in the deafening silence, listening to the chirruping chorus of the grasshoppers. After a few moments, Logan spoke up.

"'Ro is pissed, you know."

"You do not say?" replied Kurt sarcastically.

"Hey, don't kill the messenger!" replied Logan, holding his hands up defensively. He glanced up to towards the rolling storm clouds that blotted out the star-filled sky. "It is kinda obvious when she's in a 'mood', isn't it?"

"A 'mood'?" stated Kurt, laughing sharply. "If this is a 'mood,' I would hate to see her truly angry."

"Believe me, it's scary," replied Logan knowingly. 

Kurt smiled wryly and nodded. Seconds passed, but neither one spoke. Rain began to fall; it pattered against the leaves and the gravel of the walkway. 

"Do you think she is crying?" asked Kurt softly, turning his bright yellow eyes to the sky.

"What do you think?" answered Logan roughly. 

The blue German winced and shrunk away. "It is my fault."

"Yeah."

Kurt shot Logan a nasty look. "You are very supportive, _ja_?" he commented sourly.

"Just telling it like it is," replied the Canadian, stretching out his legs.

"_Ja_. A lot of good that did me," muttered the teleporter.

"Elf, what happened?"

Kurt glanced towards Logan. It was the first time he had ever heard any hint of sincerity in the gruff man's voice. He studied Wolverine's eyes for a moment. Then he let out a heavy sigh and told Logan everything that had happened that night, from the scene at the restaurant to the fight on the doorstep. 

Logan scowled and rubbed his knuckles absentmindedly. "I would have fried that hag on the spot if I were 'Ro."

Kurt let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Fortunately, you are not Ororo."

There was another awkward pause. The rain had eased to a light mist. Logan wondered if Scott was having any luck upstairs. 

"You love her, don't you?" asked the Canadian without warning.

"_Was_?" gasped Kurt, leaping away as if he had been physically assaulted. 

Logan fixed him with a stern glare. "Come on, elf. It's obvious. I've seen how you act like a lovesick idiot around her."

Kurt turned away, his cheeks burning. He pretended to study the grass for a moment. Then he muttered under his breath. "Yes. I do love her."

The other man nodded. "Have you told her yet?"

The blue German shrugged. "Not really…"

"In other words, the answer is 'no'."

"No. I have not told her of my feelings."

"Well, there's no time like the present," commented Logan, getting to his feet.

"You mean now?" squeaked Kurt.

"Yes, now," replied the Canadian, reaching down and hauling the other man to his feet. 

"I…I cannot!"

"Yes, you can," growled Logan. It was obvious he wasn't going to leave any room for argument.

Kurt whimpered and allowed himself to be guided towards the mansion. He fought the urge to teleport. He knew if he ran away now it would not be pleasant when Logan found him again. The pair stepped into the brightly lit front foyer. Logan gave Kurt a half-hearted push.

"Go get her, Romeo."

Kurt muttered to himself in German and then teleported half-way down the hall. He began to head towards the staircase, but then he paused. There was no sense in seeing Ororo without some sort of peace offering. Kurt teleported to the kitchen. He quickly set to work creating his masterpiece, the triple chocolate sundae. No woman would be able to resist him.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter Three

Scott padded along the carpeted hallway, his socked feet not making a sound. He paused outside of Ororo's door, leaning against it. All was quiet on the other side. Hesitantly, he reached up and knocked.

"Go away."

Scott frowned. So far, this endeavor hadn't been very promising. He waited another moment and then knocked again.

"Ororo?" he called, his voice soft and pleading.

There was a pause before she answered. "You're not going to go away, are you?"

The young man grinned. "Nope."

He could hear her curse as she got up and stomped across the room. The door opened and Scott was surprised by the sight before him. Ororo's face was blotchy and her eyes red. The dress she had worn was crumpled and mascara ran down her cheeks. She glared at him with her raccoon eyes.

"What do you want, Scott?"

"Can we talk?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

Ororo sighed in defeat and stepped aside, allowing him just enough room to slip inside. Scott gazed around the immaculate room. Potted plants covered every available surface. The bookshelves were filled with history texts. The scent of exotic perfume hung in the air. 

"Have a seat," offered Ororo, gesturing to a crimson armchair that sat partially concealed by rare flora. 

Scott sat precariously on the edge of the chair. There was still a part of him that felt guilty over being in another woman's room. A sharp pain stung his chest as he thought of Jean. He quickly brushed aside the painful memories and turned to Ororo. "So…"

"So?" she replied snidely.

"Drop the attitude, Ororo."

The weather witch bristled at this comment. "What do you want, Scott?" she snapped. The wind was picking up outside, testimony to her sour mood.

He turned and pointedly looked out the window. He gestured to the maelstrom outside. "What's up?" he demanded.

"I have a headache," lied Ororo. She kneaded her forehead to try to emphasize the point. "It must be effecting my control."

"Bull shit," stated Scott bluntly.

"Damn it, Scott! Just leave me alone!"

"No," he replied coolly. 

Ororo slumped against the pillows clustered on her bed. "Please, Scott. Let it be."

"No," repeated the young man more forcefully. "Ororo, something has upset you. I've had enough with seeing you bottle everything up inside of yourself. You put on this 'I'm the supreme weather goddess' air and act like you don't need anyone. But humans weren't meant to be all alone."

"I'm not human," interrupted Ororo, her voice icy.

Scott sighed and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "You know what I mean. You can't always handle everything by yourself. No matter how strong you are, sometimes you need someone else."

"I don't want anyone else," argued the young woman, her voice cracking as more tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"That's not true," replied Scott softly. "And you know it."

Ororo vainly held on to her pride, refusing to crumble before Scott. If only Jean were here…but she wasn't. Jean was gone. And now Kurt would be gone too, because she had chased him away. Outside, rain began to pour down, shedding the tears that Ororo refused to release.

Scott silently stood up and moved to Ororo's side. He wrapped his arms around her slender frame, pulling her against him. "It's okay," he promised. "You can cry. I won't think any less of you for it."

Ororo let out a heart-wracking sob and buried her face in the collar of Scott's shirt. Her tears soaked the front of his shirt as she shamelessly shed all of the hurt that she had held inside. She began to hiccup as the tears tapered off. She sat back and wiped fiercely at her eyes.

"I…I'm sorry," she croaked.

"Don't be," stated Scott, smiling gently.

"It's…it's just…" Ororo let out another sob. "I'm so afraid." She flung her arms around his neck and held on tight. "I'm so afraid."

"Of what?" he whispered encouragingly. 

"Of everything. Of humans. Of myself. Of always being hated. Of always _hating_. I can't bear it, Scott."

"But you aren't alone," he stated firmly. "Me. The professor. Logan. _Kurt_. We may not know exactly how you feel, but we will always be there for you. You don't have to carry the pain by yourself. That's what friends are for."

Ororo sniffled, then smiled. "Thanks, Scott."

"You're welcome. I know…I know I'm not Jean…" He winced as he spoke her name. "But I'll try my best to take care of those she loved."

"I know," whispered Ororo.   


"Are you going to be okay?" asked Scott.

"I think I will be," murmured the weather witch. She glanced out the window to see that the rain had diminished to a mist. "I just hope he doesn't hate me…"

"Are you talking about Kurt?"

Ororo nodded solemnly. More tears threatened to form as she thought of losing his friendship. All because of foolish pride.

"I don't know what happened tonight, but I doubt Kurt will _ever _hate you. All you can do now is apologize. I'm sure he'll listen."

"Thanks, Scott," stated Ororo, her voice steady. She smiled up at him, her blue eyes shining. _Everything is going to be okay._ She just knew it.

Ororo jumped slightly when she sensed the air outside of her door shift. She pulled away from Scott and stared at the door expectantly. Moments later, someone knocked.

"Ororo?" called Kurt from the other side.

Scott stood to leave. He reached down and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "If you need me…"

"I know where to find you," finished Ororo. She then turned to the door. "Come in, Kurt." 

Kurt shyly opened the door and stepped inside. Scott noticed that he was carrying what looked like a sundae. _Smart man_, thought Scott as he stepped past the blue mutant, nodding an acknowledgement. He could see the curiosity in Kurt's eyes, and he knew the German was wondering what he and Ororo had talked about. Scott grinned at him as he passed. He would have winked, but the gesture would have been pointless thanks to his glasses. 

Scott closed the door behind him, leaving Ororo and Kurt alone. He set off down the hallways back to the rec room. He knew Logan would be waiting there and would be eager to hear what Ororo had said. Scott offered up a quick prayer for the couple upstairs. He smiled to himself, knowing that if anyone would break through to Ororo's heart, it would be Kurt.

TBC….


	4. Chapter Four

Kurt watched as Scott quietly left the room. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought that Ororo had confided in someone other than him. Scott shut the door behind him, and Kurt turned back towards the white-haired weather witch. She smiled weakly at him.

"I made this for you," ventured the German, offering her the sundae.

A genuine smile broke out on Ororo's face. She accepted the bowl of ice cream. "Thank you, Kurt."

He stood perfectly still for a moment, his head cocked to one side as he watched her nibble on the fudge-drenched sundae. He fidgeted slightly, anxious to please the beautiful woman before him. He lived to see her smile, to hear her laughter. He knew he still had to officially apologize to her, but he hoped this was an appropriate start.

Ororo glanced up at the paralyzed mutant. "Would you like to sit down?" she offered, patting the mattress beside her.

"_Danke_," murmured Kurt, as he nervously moved to sit by her side. He stared down at his odd-shaped hands. 

Ororo watched Kurt's prehensile tail as it flopped back and forth across the bed. He noticed that she was staring and made a conscience effort to still the offending appendage. Ororo giggled softly. Kurt grinned roguishly and batted the back of her head with the spade-shaped tip.

"Kurt!" chided Ororo, slapping at the tail.

"I am sorry, _fraulein_, but I cannot stop it," teased the German as he continued to assault her. 

Ororo laughed, but her happiness was short lived. The angry words that had passed between them flooded her mind, wiping the smile from her face. Kurt quickly sensed the change, his tail going limp. He turned away from her.

"I am very sorry, Ororo," he whispered softly, taking great care in pronouncing her exotic name. He dared to glance at her, hope shining in his eyes. 

"I'm the one who should be apologizing, Kurt," replied the weather witch. She set the bowl of ice cream aside with shaking hands. Her throat felt tight and she wondered if she was going to cry yet again. 

"_Nein_," interrupted the blue mutant, shaking his head fiercely. He reached up and gently stroked her cheek. "You were hurt and needed someone to listen to you. I failed you."

"No, Kurt. You could never fail me," replied Ororo as she threw her arms around his neck.

Kurt froze, unsure of what to do. He hesitantly reached up and stroked her back, hoping that it was the best course of action. He felt lost, as if all of his actions were somehow inadequate. He wasn't sure how to comfort Ororo, but he was going to try his best.

"I'm sorry," murmured Ororo as she buried her face in the front of his shirt. "I'm so very sorry."

"Hush, _fraulein_," replied Kurt, his tail wrapping loosely around her waist as he held her tighter.

She whimpered and cuddled closer in response. Resting her head on his shoulder, she reached up and began to trace one of the tattoos that marked the side of his neck. 

"How could you stand the pain?" she whispered as her fingertips ran across his blue-tinted skin.

"It was easy because I knew I deserved it," answered Kurt, his yellow eyes empty. He glanced down at the woman in his arms and smiled weakly.

Ororo's chest tightened; a wave of sadness rushed over her when she realized that Kurt believed that he honestly deserved every single mark on his body. She suddenly felt silly for thinking that she was the only one that truly suffered. She thought of Scott losing Jean, the experiments performed on Logan, Kurt's tattoos…she was far from alone.

"You don't deserve it, Kurt," she murmured. She leaned forward and lightly kissed the spot that she had been tracing. 

A shiver ran up his spine at the soft sensation of Ororo's warm lips against his flesh. Kurt took in a deep breath to steady himself. Some sins he would always have to deal with no matter how many times he cut designs into his skin.

Ororo felt her cheeks warm when she realized what exactly she had done. She pulled away, feeling foolish. "I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't have," she muttered.

"Ororo, it is fine," replied Kurt, reaching out and gently touching her arm. "Stop punishing yourself."

"Why don't you?" she answered, her eyes traveling over the scars on his body before meeting his glowing yellow eyes.

"It is different," he replied, his voice tense.

Ororo opened her mouth to retort, but then realized that they would just be reliving the events of earlier that night. Best not to have two fights in one night if you could possibly help it.

Instead, she leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. Her heart began to race when he returned her kiss. She moved closer, tangling her fingers in his wiry blue-black hair. She was pleasantly surprised when he responded by wrapping his arms around her slender waist.

Kurt began to loose himself in her kiss. He savored the sweet taste of her lips. His heart pounded in his chest as he pulled her tighter against his body. She whimpered throatily as she pressed herself against him.

There was a jolt and Kurt jumped as if he had been shocked. He pulled away in surprise and stared down at Ororo. She looked up at him bashfully.

"Static electricity," she muttered, clearing her throat. "I kind of naturally gather it."

The blue mutant bit his lower lip to try to restrain his laughter, but it was in vain. He began to chortle, then to laugh out loud. Ororo fixed him with an intense glare, but Kurt couldn't help himself.

Ororo poked him with her index finger, giving him another small jolt. He yelped softly and then began to laugh even harder.

"Har har har," muttered the weather witch, but she was grinning as well.

"Oh, _fraulien_," stated Kurt, his eyes shining. "I adore you."

"You should," she replied tartly, crossing her arms over her chest and pretending to pout. 

Kurt leaned over and kissed her cheek playfully, causing her to squirm and giggle. He reached up and ran his odd-shaped fingers through her shock-white hair. Ororo smiled up at him and moved closer.

"I'm sorry that we fought," she stated softly.

Kurt shrugged. "Everyone fights from time to time, even best friends," he replied.

"Is that what we are?" Ororo asked curiously. "Best friends?"

"_Ja_," answered Kurt. He tilted his head to the side in thought. "There is a phrase that Logan used. 'Friends with benefits,' _ja?"_

"Ugh! Logan!" hissed the weather witch, shaking her head.

Kurt blinked wide, innocent eyes. "That is not right?"

"No," replied Ororo sternly. "'Friends with benefits' are friends that sleep together."

"Oh!" responded the teleporter. 

Ororo could feel the heat rising from his cheeks. She smiled reassuringly at him. "Never take what Logan says at face value," she replied, patting his hand.

"I think I have learned that lesson," muttered Kurt.

The weather goddess laughed. She leaned forward and kissed him teasingly on the tip of his nose. "Thank you for being my friend."

"You are most welcome," he replied. He stood gracefully and bowed to her. "Now, I must bid you good night."

"Good night, Kurt," she whispered, wishing that he didn't have to leave.

He reached down and took her hand, lightly kissing the back of it. "Good night, _fraulien_. Sweet dreams."

With a puff of blue-black smoke, he was gone. Ororo coughed slightly as the sulfur-scented vapor dissipated. A small smile tugged at her lips and it took all the willpower she had not to fall backward and giggle like a schoolgirl. She wasn't sure how things would be now that they had kissed. But as long as Kurt was by her side, Ororo was sure that everything would be okay.

The End 


End file.
